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“It’s just old-fashioned spaghetti and meatballs,” the lady said, her eyes twinkling. “We wanted you to feel at home. And Oberon thought you might like to sharesome of your favorite things from Terra-58 with Mr. Rawling.”
“That was really thoughtful, Oberon,” she said, wondering if the AI was actually always listening.
“It is my pleasure, Miss Sinclair,” he replied.
“Call me Olivia, please,” she offered.
“Thank you, Olivia,” he said.
“It’s really cool, isn’t it?” the lady in the apron asked. “Being able to talk to him?”
You have no idea…
“It really is,” Olivia told her. “Do you get used to it?”
“Yes,” the woman replied. “But whenever I think about it I’m amazed all over again. I’m Nina, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Nina,” Olivia said. “Are you sure I can’t help?”
Nina observed her for a moment.
“If you enjoy messing around in the kitchen, I could use some help with the fruit,” Nina said with a smile, pointing toward a bag of fruit, some of which looked familiar while some didn’t. “There’s a cutting board by the stove and some very nice knives. Take your pick.”
“Perfect,” Olivia said, getting right to work.
Nina introduced her to some of the unfamiliar fruit and explained how she wanted it cut up. They chatted away while they worked.
Olivia felt better as soon as her hands were busy and she had someone to talk with. Before long, she forgot all about her fears and was losing herself in preparing a sort of fruit salad with dipping sauce that Nina explained was a favorite on Maltaffia.
“What’s this?” Stark asked as he returned, his deep voice echoing in the open space. “She has to cook?”
“I don’t have to,” Olivia said quickly. “I really wanted to, and Nina agreed to teach me. Look, there’s Maltaffian fruit with special dipping sauce.”
Nina had frozen beside her at Stark’s angry voice.
“Have you had it before?” Olivia asked Stark. “Fruit dipping sauce?”
“Every child in the creche learns to make fruit medley with dipping sauce,” he said disdainfully. “For what I’m paying, we ought to be eating uncaddocked whystoke steaks.”
“Every child’s creche makes a fruit medley with sauce because it’s the most delicious, healthy food on Maltaffia,” Nina said firmly. “And everyone loves it. But you’ll love this even more because Miss Sinclair made it for you herself.”
Olivia choked back a laugh, and barely restrained herself from hugging the older lady.
“Fine, fine,” Stark said. “Will it be ready soon?”
“It’s ready now,” Nina said. “I’ve just been holding the main course warm for you. Please, have a seat, both of you.”
Olivia scrambled over to the sink to wash up. She wasn’t afraid of Stark and his gruff mood, after all, their whole interaction was being monitored. And besides, she was pretty sure she knew what was making him impatient. It was the same thing buzzing in her belly and heating her cheeks.
He wanted to be alone with her.
Her feelings were probably a lot more complicatedthan his, but she wanted it too. So she moved quickly to the table to join him.
He was seated at the head of the table.
She paused only a moment before deciding to take the seat beside his rather than sitting at the other end.
Nina snapped her fingers and the candles on the long table were instantly lit.
